It’s been a long time since I’ve finished a novel in a single sitting.
A Monster Calls is a quick read, but an important one. It’s beautiful. The story, the purpose, the prose. What makes it beautiful is that it is universal. I may not have lived Conor’s truth, or his life, but I know it. I feel it deeply in my b0nes because I have lived my own version of it. And who hasn’t? It’s so simple but it rings truer than most novels I have read, and it is for that that I cried.
I do feel like it could have been more. Everything could have been elaborated on, and this 200 page novel could have been doubled in size. It could have been sadder, it could have been more magical, it could have been dragged out longer. But its simplicity, in a way, is what makes it so bitterly real. The simplicity makes it painful and applicable and so desperately heartbreaking– even if we all know how it’s all going to turn out. The stories, then, are not just to teach Conor, but to teach us. In learning Conor’s truth, we are learning our own.
I don’t want to watch the upcoming movie in fear of what it will do to the story, but I’m also happy its been adapted because this is a voice that needs to be heard.
4.5 tree monsters out of 5.